Take A Moment
by breannalee19
Summary: "And then he did what he thought a man should do, what his father would've done. He wrapped his arms around the wounded girl and held her until the sun rose." A four part drabble about Patrick's last moments before his death in 4x01 {Patrick/OC}


Beth, unlike most people noticed the final stillness of the trees. Early November in Georgia was filled with the howling of the wind weaving through the bare branches of the nearby forests. And yet after yesterdays events it abruptly ceased. She believed everything was mourning, even if she stopped long ago. It had been thirty days without and accident, but not before it turned from bad to worse. Thats all it ever seemed to do. She had hardly known Patrick who was the first victim of the disaster but something seemed to change within him before he had passed. Before the disease suddenly took hold of his body. Before he came back as a walker, wanting to _kill_. This was something he wouldn't want to do if he was alive, Beth was sure of it. He was to humane to survive. Even if it was just a walker stumbling through the tombs, he wasn't able to put it down.

But after a short conversation she had with him yesterday she wouldn't be to sure of that now. He'd simply asked for a knife, claiming it would be used for emergencies, but you could see the fire in his eyes. He seemed almost desperate as if he needed it right then and there. But the fact that he'd _wanted_ one, when weeks ago you could've offered and he would have politely declined. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she sure as hell would've liked to have known. Just how someone could change everything they'd ever believed in for someone else, just as he had for a girl he'd known a week. But that was how love worked right? You'd do anything for the other person, thats what Maggie had said. But Beth had never been in love so she hadn't known and sadly she believed she'd never be given the chance. Beth believed all hope was gone for her.

**Seven Days Before**

_ "I don't think we should be down here." Patrick's voice, only slightly shaky rang off the cold prison walls. Carl only smiled at his feeble attempts to have them turn around and make their way back to the safety of the cell block. "We're not to far now, only a few more turns." Carl lifted the gun he had pulled from the artillery, aiming it a the sharp corner they would soon turn. With his gun gone and him on probation for the murder of a young Woodbury boy Carl missed the feeling of the cold metal between his fingers. The power he felt when the bullet flew from the gun and into his target gave him a feeling he truly missed. But Patrick was sure they'd be found by one of their own. He rarely ever tried to do anything risky, somehow he'd always managed to get caught. And the punishment for stealing a gun from their own stockpile meant a harsh one, not to mention their trek through the dead infested tombs. The knot in Patrick's stomach began to somehow tighten even more. "Look Carl.." _

_ The younger boys hand flew back to where patrick stood, signaling for him to stop. He quickly grew silent understanding the sudden seriousness of the situation. The smile had long gone disappeared from Carl's face and he'd suddenly looked three years older than he really was. Patrick was surprised to hear not a walkers moans or feet dragging along the cement floor but a girls screams just barley echoing off the walls. Patrick had finally realized how far into the tombs they truly were once he recognized they wouldn't ever hear her desperate cries of help from their own cell block. They were to far away. "Come on, stay close." Carl hissed before he quickly began to rush towards the noise, gun ready for any unwanted company that may have crossed their path. Within minutes the sound was everywhere, surrounding them. They began to break into a run, and everything else had disappeared. The noise was so __**loud**__. Their footsteps couldn't be heard anymore, only the pain seemed to exist. If the adrenaline wasn't running through his veins Patrick most likely would've gotten sick from the sound. The thought of any human being hurting as much as she was made his stomach twist painfully. Then all at once it stopped. This seemed to worry the two more, they couldn't hep wondering if she was gone already. Abruptly stopping Carl pointed to a door off to their right, nodding his head in it's direction wanting Patrick to open it. Sucking in a quick breath giving himself no time to change his mind he leaned forward twisting the knob and throwing it open. _

_ Laying only twelve feet away a body laid motionless as a walker descended upon her. Yet the undead corpse wasn't able to take another step, Carl had already pulled the trigger. The sound made Patrick flinch more than he would've liked to, he stood unmoving as Carl rushed into the room moving her hair away from her face. Whipping around he yelled Patrick's name, before he returned his attention to her blood and dirt covered face. "She's still breathing, check the bag!" Tentatively stepping forward and farther into the room Patrick unzipped the black duffel bag. Which was still coated in mud and duck tape to cover the holes, it was a failed attempt and had already began to peel away. Sifting through her belongings he tossed out a limited amount of clothing, necessities that had already dwindled and very few personal belongings. "Come on Patrick!" Feeling a small cylinder under his finger tips, he quickly threw the remaining amount of items from the bag to reveal a small red inhaler. Snatching the plastic Patrick began to shake the medicine as he quickly crawled towards the sound of raspy light breaths. "What the hell are you doing?" He could tell Carl was growing impatient, so he hurried finally reaching the two. "My little sister, she had asthma." With a confused expression crossing his features Carl backed away letting Patrick take over, trusting his judgement on the situation. _

_ "Pinch her nose shut." He commanded before gently opening her mouth. Patrick placed the inhaler just inside her lips before he quickly sucked in a breath. Squeezing the container and putting his own lips against hers as he pushed his own breath into her weaker lungs. As he continued this her heart beat sped up and soon enough her lips twitched. With the severity of the situation he ceased to notice and moments later she placed her hands on his chest and roughly pushed Patrick away with a force he surly wouldn't have thought she possessed. Carl quickly jumped away as he shakily reached for his rifle aiming it at the side of her face. Patrick sat stunned at the sudden fire in her bright green eyes, and even more surprised at the steadiness in her voice. "Who are you?" Her question was one he expected, and yet it was one he wasn't ready for. "How did you get in here?" Carl had beat him to it much to Patrick's dismay, strangely he wanted to know more about her. And he most definitely couldn't put his finger on why he did. Maybe it was curiosity, it couldn't be anything else. It had to be curiosity._

Carter was the second to arrive through the downed wall on the opposite side of the prison since their group had arrived. Beth couldn't imagine the fear she had felt running through the never ending tunnels of the tombs, listening to the walkers footsteps closing in. And yet she couldn't imagine the fear she felt now that she was infected with the disease, alone in quarantine. Carter was strong, stronger than she had been. Surly if Patrick was still alive he would be by her bedside holding her hand hoping she would get better. But at the stage she was in there was no way her condition would improve. Of course there had been talks among the council of finding antibiotics, but a run had to be scheduled and they needed people to go. Beth knew there weren't many left to travel. Grabbing a red bandana from a nearby shelf she took a deep breath before folding the material in half and tying the fabric around her mouth and nose, shielding her face from the disease.

She had to talk to Carter and she didn't have much time left. Her heart began to race as she quickly made her way towards cell block A. She'd overheard Glenn and Maggie talking earlier in the day of keeping infected members of the prison there. Beth wasn't sure why she felt the sudden urgency to talk to the dying girl, but she couldn't shake the feeling. Beth's mother, before her passing traveled to hospitals and nursing homes in hopes of consoling others while they laid on their death bed. Maybe that was why she was doing so, because it was the right thing to do and Carter had no one left. But that hadn't felt right. Beth believed she truly wanted to know more about what she herself had given up on. To know about something she wanted, something that Carter had.

**Six Days Before**

_"How many walkers have you killed?" Sasha was straightforward and direct, Carter admired those traits as she hated when people tried to peel off the band aid, she was one of those people who would rather rip it. Just as soon as she sat down, head still throbbing from unconsciousness, Sasha began firing questions. Where are you from? How did you get in? Were you alone? Sasha didn't appear satisfied with one word answers, but that's all Carter was willing to give. She didn't know them, any of them yet that boy had saved her, and he hadn't known her. Patrick was it? Yes, she was sure that was it. Patrick. The name fit well, messy dark hair was flying in every direction other than where it was meant to be, and kind eyes hidden by black rimmed glasses that closely followed her on their way back to a nearby cell block. Not like she could forget the heat he emanated, her cold lips became flushed with warmth almost instantaneously. It was the first thing she noticed when she regained consciousness. "To many." Carter stated as she carefully crossed her arms, eyes glaring dangerously at the already agitated woman. Sleep seemed to drag down Sasha's eyelids making her look of annoyance grow with every passing minute. _

_ "Look Carter I don't know who you are or what your trying to do but if you plan on staying here I suggest you answer with the best of your ability." Uncrossing her arms Carter leaned back a small smile on her face, she truly respected the woman sitting across from her. "How many people?" Sasha seemed to relax only slightly, the smile fading from her face Carter began to clench her jaw. Tensing up as memories of months prior to that moment replayed in her mind. "Three." She stated monotonously, suspecting the third and final question Carter continued to explain as to why she had done what she did. "It's not easy out there. You're strong Sasha and you can't become strong without experience." Shaking her head she pulled at the faded yellow sweater, trying to get the fabric positioned so it wouldn't itch her arms as it had been for the last hour since she'd changed. But it was the end of the world and style options seemed to dwindle, as expected _

_ "And being a young female out there people take advantage of their opportunities." Trusting the woman in front of her Carter sucked in a deep breath before she pulled back the sleeves of the sweater revealing burn marks running along her forearms. "They have camps out there ya know? Filled with people who prey on the weak. With the world ending an all I guess they suddenly think it's okay to do what they couldn't before." Sasha had heard stories, but she'd never believed they would ever be true. The thought of anyone hurting any innocent human being made Sasha sick to her stomach. It was one thing to deal with walkers but to practically brand your initials onto others. Pulling the fabric back into it's rightful place Carter placed her hands under the table out of view. She was never really one to take sympathy from others, only when it was needed. And she believed then was as good of time as any._


End file.
